My Wife Is Bossy. I Love Her That Way.

And being called that didn't stop her from being successful

There's been much discussion lately about the term "bossy," what with Facebook chief operating officer Sheryl Sandberg diving into full-on "lean-in" mode via her "Ban Bossy" campaign to outlaw the word, essentially instructing the collective female population that "bossy" is a demeaning, disrespectful, and downright sexist descriptor for a young girl. Or really anyone, for that matter. She's even enlisted some famous friends to join the fight, including Beyoncé, who, in a recent PSA video, says she's "not bossy," but rather "the boss."

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It was after seeing Queen Bey utter those words that I found myself taking pause. Sure, the term "bossy" unfortunately carries with it an air of judgment. Branding a young girl — the group predominantly given the label "bossy" — with shame for taking control, leading the pack, albeit with a pushy mentality, is potentially damaging and definitely unfair. But every so often, and as was the case for my wife, and I imagine countless other successful women, being dubbed "bossy" as a youngster does not at all hinder motivation for future success. Let me reiterate in more plain English: My wife is bossy. And proud of it.

We wonder how Kelis feels about this.

She's been called it her whole life. Sure, she's a bit loud. And she speaks her mind. She's not about to sugarcoat things that frankly shouldn't be given a saccharine shine. She knows how to get what she wants. She doesn't let others — men, women, her husband telling her there's no godforsaken need to watch another episode of Lockup — stand in her way. It's not the fact that she's a lawyer that makes me particularly proud of her for being "bossy." It's that she laughed when as a child her friends called her "bossy": She knew her persuasiveness, confidence, and passion for achievement would be her whip when the cruel, sexist world got out of line. And does it turn me on to see her all suited up every day on the way to court, ready to lay the smack down on some chump attorneys? Damn straight.

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Where does this leave me? Are you, the reader, now to believe I'm simply my wife's prop? Her punching bag when she's pissed off, her errand boy, her fetcher of salted snacks during episodes of Dance Moms? Well, sort of. But that's just called being a husband. And ideally an effective one. On a larger level, though, I'm my wife's co-worker, her support system in all things bossy. She's bossy. And I'm thrilled for her. Then again I won't be encouraging her to start letting out Rick Ross-ian grunts to assert her bossiness any time soon. I have my limits.

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